


Love Is The Message (And The Message Is Love)

by roelliej



Category: What If It's Us - Becky Albertalli & Adam Silvera
Genre: Angst, Benthur, Best Friends, Brotherly Love, Cameos, Do-Over, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Heartache, Hopeful Ending, Humor, Language, Love, M/M, New York City, One True Pairing, Pop Culture, Rating: PG13, Reconciliation, Romance, Second Chances, Suggestive Themes, Summer Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 04:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16548866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roelliej/pseuds/roelliej
Summary: Ben tries to focus on writing a sequel to The Wicked Wizard War, but his heart and head keep wandering off to Milton, Georgia...





	Love Is The Message (And The Message Is Love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my_thestral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_thestral/gifts).



> Much thanks to DS for the beta-check. Appreciate it very much, hon! <3

“Yo, bro! Is it safe to enter? Are you done jerking off? ”

“Hello, Dylan,” I say, laughing. “Come on in. Why do you even knock? You never do, even if I was spanking the mo—oh, hello, Sam.”

“Pardon me for interrupting your dick-measuring contest,” Samantha O’Malley says as she enters my room, winking. 

Holy fuck, that girl is so gorgeous; her good looks just don’t match with her one-of-the-guys foul mouth. I love her. She is one of few people who’s able to keep Dylan’s thinking-with-his-cock attitude at bay. I always thought that was impossible. Kudos for Sam!

“We were in the neighbourhood and we wanted to visit our best bud in the whole wide world,” Dylan says, dropping his bulky body on my bed.  “What were you doing? Except surfing for sleazy gay tentacle porn?”

“You’re by far the most disgusting guy on the face of the planet,” I say, punching him in the arm. “If you must know, I was writing.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Sam says enthusiastically. She’s not much of a reader, but she has assured me that she couldn’t stop reading _The Wicked Wizard_ _War_ until it was finished. “Are you forging a sequel, _Ben-Jamin_?”

I feel a blush creeping up my neck and I smile—like a moron, most likely. “I’m thinking about it, yeah.”

“That’s a very good idea, Big Ben,” Dylan says. “I hope King Arturo will make a reappearance...”

I see Sam glaring at Dylan in a keep-your-big-fucking-mouth-shut way. My heart skips a bit and I feel my cheeks flushing—I must look like an oversized fucking tomato. It always happens when _he_ is mentioned. Or when I see his picture. Or read his name. Or see his face via Face-Time. Or, to be honest, all the goddamn time! It has been a year and a half since our post office _meet cute_ and he’s still in my thoughts. Why can’t I just move on? Like he did with that Draco/Harry-hybrid. Yeah, they broke up, but still...

“Ben?” Samantha asks softly. I look into her eyes, and I’m _that_ close to crying. I wish she would stop being so nice. “Have you spoken to Arthur lately?”

“Y-Yeah,” I whisper. “Yesterday.”

“How is he doing?” Dylan says.

“Good,” I say. “He’s doing good. Yeah, very good.”

“And...?” Samantha says, obviously trying to encourage me to open up. I proudly refuse... until I realise my friends won’t stop staring holes in my skull, digging for info.

“Fine,” I sigh in defeat. “He wants a sequel.”

“A sequel? As in...?”

“A do-over.”

“Oh,” Samantha says, a smile appearing on her lips. “And that’s— _awesome_?”

“I don’t know, Sam. It’s been quite a while and...”

“Okay.”

That was Dylan. He scratches his beard and clears his throat in a rather vulgar way. He turns his eyes towards his girlfriend and sighs.

“It’s time.”

She nods and both my friends turn their faces towards me. I open my mouth but Dylan raises his hand, as if he wants to cast a non-verbal Silencing Charm.

“Ben, you know that I love you, right? You’re like the brother I never had. Brothers-in-arms.

“Your other side of the coin minus rumpy pumpy?”

“That, too, sweetheart,” Dylan says smugly. What the fuck is he up to?!

“I love you, too, Dylan,” I say, more confused than ever. “What’s this about?”

“Here we go,” Dylan says, muttering to himself. “Believe me, this will hurt me more than it will hurt you.”

“Dylan...”

“Fuck. You.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I said: fuck you!” Dylan says. His smile is gone and his beard-covered cheeks are flushed. “Fuck you for being such a blind prick!”

“How dare you...?!”

“I _dare_ because I know you, and I’m so fucking tired of you doing your nail-me-to-the-cross-and-let-me-suffer attitude. You’re not Jesus, for fuck’s sake! And it’s almost Christmas!”

“Jesus was nailed to the cross on Good Friday. That’s before _Easter_ , Dylan.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I don’t why I get that wrong all the—that’s not the fucking point, Benito Alejo! Stop confusing me!”

“Confusing _you_?!” I blurt out, anger racing through my veins. “Is there a point hidden somewhere beneath all that gobbledygook?! Jesus Christ, what’s next? You spinning your head around while masturbating with a cru...?”

“You know goddamn-well  who I’m talking about!” Dylan bellows. I have never seen him this angry before, and I realise he means business. “Why is it so difficult for you to admit that you’re longing for him—for Arthur?”

“But...”

“I see it in your eyes, Bennie,” Dylan whispers, sounding exasperated. “You’ve changed since last year. Sam noticed it, too. I know it was just a couple of weeks, but that guy made you happy. So much more than Hudson.”

“Leave Hudson in the past!!”

“I will fucking not! I get it, you know! I understand why you and Art broke up. You met him right after you ended your relationship with Hudson. It was too early to begin a new one. You were still not over Hudson.”

My heart is pounding in my throat and I have trouble breathing. Dylan is ripping open an old wound that I’m desperate to keep closed.

“What’s your point?” I raise my hands in despair.

“Are you over Hudson?”

“Yes. We’re friends. Or something like that. I really don’t know what the fuck we are these days.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Dylan says softly.

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!” I blurt out, out of control fury taking over as I kick my desk full-force —probably breaking a couple of toes in the process. I curse like a sailor as I drop myself onto the bed next to Dylan, feeling completely drained. At this point, I don’t even give a fuck about the sharp pain in my foot.  I feel tears welling up from that place deep inside, where I can feel as miserable as I like, when there’s no one around to tell me to man up or shit. In those moments  I can become one with the darkness without telling anyone what’s wrong with me. But right now, I really don’t want to cry.

Sam sits down next to me and gently takes my hand between hers—the warmth of her palms is soothing and slows down my heartbeat. I swallow audibly as I shakily exhale.

“You can talk to us, Ben,” Sam says softly. “We’re your friends.”

And then I’m done. I feel my face scrunching up miserably as my facade crumbles like The Wall meeting Viserion, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Bro,” I hear Dylan whisper as he puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards him. “You’ve been carrying this pain all this time by yourself. And we stood by, doing nothing.”

“No, “ I blurt out as I cry into my best friend’s shoulder. “I-It’s not your fault. It’s the universe. It fucking _hates_ me.”

“But why?” Sam whispers, still caressing my hand in a comforting way.

“First Hudson, then Arthur. The universe doesn’t want me to be happy. As soon as a relationship reaches its peak, the universe breaks my back Bane-style!”

“Hold on,” Dylan says as he gently pushes me back to face him. “Hudson cheated on you. He was a lying whore who took advantage of your goodness. You were damn right to have dumped that motherfucker. Arthur is _nothing_ like Hudson.”

“He kissed other boys. He kissed that _Mikey_.”

“So, what? You weren’t together then, and do you really think Arthur gives a shit about Michael fucking Myers? Who was the first person he called after breaking up with Captain Peroxide? You. He called _you_. He’s fresh out of the closet. He’s a hormonal virgin, so to speak. He’s experimenting. But at the end of the day, you’re still his number one.”

“Yeah, but...”

“And what is that bullshit of the universe destroying your happiness at its peak? The purpose of life isn’t about you only having one single day of happiness and die the next.  You and Arthur could have so many more days. A relationship has its ups and downs; it’s not destined to have one single climax.”

“If that had been true, you and me would have been through in less than two days, would we, babe?” Sam says, winking suggestively. I can’t help but laugh through my tears.

“I know you really mean well,” I say, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. “But look at the facts. It would take a thirteen-hour drive to see each other. We are so busy with school. It just wouldn’t work.”

“You could make it work, Ben,” Sam says. “I never said it was going to be easy. But I strongly believe that love conquers all. And I believe in Benthur.”

 _Benthur_ sounds so fucking awesome. It gives me goose bumps.

“Do you still love him?”

“T-that’s not the point...”

“Do you still love him, Ben?” Sam repeats, a bit more firmly.

“I’m not capable of not loving him,” I say, and I feel my heart swell as I speak the words. If I was able to love him even more, I would probably explode. “But...”

“Then why wait?” Dylan says, his arm still around my shoulders. “Life is short, Big Ben. What if he, for example, drowns one day—I’m not saying that he’s going to die in less than a year, don’t get me wrong—and you never got the chance to work things out. Bro, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

“You’re not living in a movie,” Samantha says softly. “Don’t be like Jack and Rose. There’s room for two on that floating door.”

“You couldn’t wait to say that, could you?” Dylan says, a hint of pride visible in his twinkling eyes. “My unsinkable Samantha O’Malley.”

“S-so, what should I do?” I say, countless emotions forming a raging maelstrom inside my head.

“I think it’s best to wait another twenty years,” Dylan says in a deadpan way. “Are you fucking braindead or what? Send him a text or call him, you big palooka! _Right fucking now_!”

“Here’s your phone,” Sam says as she grabs it from my desk and hands it to me. I start to cry; I just can’t stop it. “I know you’re scared, sweetheart. Don’t be. We’re here for you.”

I exhale as my shaking fingers try to form words—I better keep it short.

**_Last day of 2018, Time Square. Want to try it again?_ **

I add an “x”, just to be clear. Then I press “Send”...

“I shouldn’t have done that,” I say as I keep staring at my screen, while pacing up and down my room. “I was way too pushy.”

“Breathe and grab some wood, Barbra,” Dylan says, pushing me onto a chair. “Maybe he’s busy, or...”

My heart skips a beat—or twenty—as the two checkmarks turn blue. A couple of seconds... He’s typing!  Arthur’s typing!

**_I’d love to!_ **

Fresh tears are covering the tracks of the old ones as I keep staring at the Red Heart Emoji at the end...


End file.
